What are the odds?
by American HOT Fender
Summary: Helga finds herself in the middle of a bizarre series of events which lands her back in Hillwood after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are. Chocked full of shenanigans!
1. Say it Ain't So

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.

Summary: After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.

A/N: Hello everybody. This is a little something new that I've been working on. In the midst of writing "Clean" I've really felt like dabbling in an Arnold/Helga comedy. Something to balance me. I've never written something light hearted before! This might be a little off the wall but, bear with me, I strive to be…unique.

HOUSE KEEPING: So this story is going to be rated 'T.' There _may_ be some mature content in a later chapter or two, and if there is the top of the chapter will be clearly marked.

* * *

**Say it Ain't So**

Helga Pataki had never considered herself a particularly lazy individual. Typically, she liked to keep herself moderately busy all of the time, whether with friends, with school, or her job. High school was a real drag, but an obvious and necessary evil. She wasn't about to 'flip burgers' the rest of her life…or whatever the common phrase was.

It was the last _hoorah_ of summer vacation, and she made sure she enjoyed every drop of it. This included, sleeping in like a bum on almost every morning. And why not? She'd be back to dragging herself out of bed at 6:00a.m before she knew it. The now 17-year-old was preparing to enter into her senior year of high school. The last leg, and what a relief!

Hillwood was now only a distant memory. Bob had decided to move the family to Virginia, about an hour outside of Richmond the summer after Helga's 8th grade year. She had been delighted with the move, embracing it with vigor (which sort of weirded out her parents initially). She had her reasons though, and 99.9 percent of them involved a certain green eyed, corn flower haired boy.

After elementary school, she'd left him alone for the most part, content with observing him from afar instead of bullying him like she had been doing. What was that called? Being passive aggressive? Reserved? Oh, who cared!

She _lurked_. How about that?

And just to be clear, not in a _creepy_ way either.

Anyway, they each had their own groups and their paths only ever crossed at the corner of Phoebe and Gerald street. By the time 8th grade rolled around she was sick to death of the whole ordeal. Just sick of it. Mostly because it occurred to her one day, that she really hadn't any interest in him anymore. And it wasn't because somebody else had sparked her fancy either, rather, a 13 year old could only take so much unreciprocated… ugh, _obsession_ before going on with life.

Eight years was enough. She could move on from that.

_Sure._

The _thing was_, instead of _just_ moving on, she found herself becoming downright resentful about wasting her youth pinning over him. Okay, yes, she knew the term 'wasted youth' sounded _ridiculous_, especially for someone her age, _but_ she did feel like a large portion of her _childhood _could have been better spent doing…you know…_un-Arnold_ related things.

So, needless to say, when Bob came home announcing they were moving her first thought was: '_How __soon?!_'

Phoebe had been downright inconsolable when she had broken the news to her, so much so that Helga had been utterly _convinced_ that her best friend would come bounding out of one of their moving boxes when they unpacked. Thankfully, she didn't, and surprisingly, the pair hadn't lost contact, like they'd feared, chatting on a near weekly bases via email, text, phone, and the works. Phoebe had come out and spent a couple weeks with her during the summer of sophomore year and Helga always visited when they flew in on the holidays to see Olga and her husband.

Yes, for the most part Helga loved living in Virginia; she loved her new school and most of all she loved not having to see Arnold's face every day. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. And that was her life. Easy going.

So she thought.

It had been, for all intents and purposes, a pretty average Wednesday morning in the Pataki residence. So Helga guessed. She was, as they call it, 'dead to the world,' sprawled out in the sheets of her bed. The sudden banging and booming of her father's voice forcefully yanked her from her nocturnal bliss. She bolted upright; scaring the Jack Russell nestled at the foot of her bed.

"Huh, wha? What?!"

"Helga!" Bob barked, "I said get your butt up and down stairs!"

With a groan, she flopped back down on her pillows, "Why?!" She demanded.

"Hey, don't ask questions young lady, just get your butt down here now!" He banged on the door again.

Helga growled, rubbing her sleepy eyes, "Fine!"

With that, she heard his thunderous footsteps plow back down the stairs. What the hell could he possibly want at…whatever time it was in the morning? She glanced at her clock on the bedside. It was _9:15!_ Kicking the sheets off of her body, she flung her legs over the bed and got up.

Angrily, she swung open the door and stomped downstairs.

"Dad, I swear, if this is about some new phone I'll…" She trailed off, walking into the kitchen wondering why there were papers everywhere, and why both of her parents were flying around the room like chickens with their heads cut off.

"Not now Olga…" Bob mumbled, as he leafed through a handful of parchment before shoving them into a duffle bag nearby.

"Helga," She corrected, distractedly, more interested in everything happening around her.

Bob pushed past her with the duffle bag that he had just shoved a wad of paper into and stormed into the dining room. She heard the dining table scraping across the wooden floors that blanketed the room. That terrible screeching noise of fresh scratches being dug in. She skipped to the doorway to see her father, on his knees feeling on the floor where the table used to sit.

It was official; her parents had finally gone loony.

"Dad! What the heck are you doing?" Helga implored.

"Quiet…I'm trying to…" He trailed off, continuing to feel around on the floor.

Helga watched as he dislodged a board with his fingernail and lifted up an entire square section of their hardwood flooring. After he removed the floor, he pulled open a black door and peered inside.

"Okay, why is there a compartment in our floor?!"

Bob reached his burly paws into the hole and pulled out a stack of fresh green cash.

"Okay! Okay! Bob, why is there money in a compartment in our floor?!" She exasperated more frantically.

Bob shoved them into the duffel bag, and reached back into the hole for another handful of money stacks. He did this quickly and then shoved past Helga with the duffel bag.

"We've got to get out of here. Go pack your things!" He explained.

Helga gaped, wide eyed in bewilderment. "What do you mean 'we've got to get out of here?' What is going on?!"

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Miriam shrieked, "You fathers been laundering money through his business!"

Helga could only blink in horror, "Shit Dad!"

"Hey! Watch your language little lady!" The husky grey headed man scolded.

"You're worried about my language?! You're laundering money!" Helga shouted, shaking her hands back and forth, emphasizing her point.

Bob and Miriam ignored their youngest daughter, continuing to sort and shove papers into briefcases and duffle bags.

"Oh good Lord…" Helga mumbled, leaning against the wall and pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're criminals…"

"Hey!" Bob boomed, "Why aren't you packing? We're leaving!"

The bewildered 17 year old shot him an are-you-kidding-me look, "Where are we going?! To jail?!"

Miriam rolled her eyes, "We're leaving the country."

Helga's mouth fell unhinged, "Leaving the—Leaving the country? To go where?!"

"We're moving to Guam." Bob replied, continuing his quest to shove paper into duffle bags.

"Where the heck is Guam?!"

Bob paused, his brow furrowing, "Its…you know…it's out there with—Why aren't you packing?!" He barked in frustration.

"Because I can't go to Guam, that's why!"

"Well you don't have much choice. The police are going to be closing in to arrest me and your mother soon and we've got to get the hell out of dodge!" He pointed away…presumably to 'Dodge.'

Helga opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, rethinking her father's speech. "Wait…mom too?"

Bob rolled his eyes, "As my beautiful and dashing accomplice!"

"Oh, _B!_" Miriam blushed and fluttered her eyes.

Helga shuddered in disgust, "Ugh! That's just…_no!_"

"Go! Get! Packed!"

"Dad!" She yelled back, "I _cannot_ move to _Guam_! I refuse," She crossed her arms defiantly.

Bob growled in frustration. "Fine! Suit yourself!" He angrily shoved more parchment into the bags.

A few feet away, Miriam paused and glanced at her husband, a look of appall masking her features, "Bob! We can't leave her!"

Bob stopped shoveling paper and gave his wife the closest thing to shame that he was capable of.

"She might rat us out." Miriam continued.

Helga choked, "_What?!_"

Both Bob and Miriam looked at each other before both turning back to look at Helga in creepy unison. You know, that look that you see in zombie movies, when the survivors realize that there's one among them that's been bitten. Yeah that one, and Helga instinctively took a step back from them; not knowing what those people were capable of.

"Do you really think she'll squeal?"

"I mean, we haven't been the _most_ attentive parents…"

Helga dropped her arms, mouth falling agape, "Oh. My. God. Really?! Like I don't have better things to do?" She motioned to herself, "Or standards…"

Bob thinned his eyes at her and crossed his burly arms over his chest, "And just _where_ do you think you'll stay if we _do_ leave you?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes for the millionth time, "I don't know _Bob_. I guess I'll stay somewhere."

"You better not go talking…"

Helga dropped her head into her hand, completely exacerbated with the entire situation, laughing cynically as it was. Her parents had tuned out her presences when she didn't respond back immediately, once again focusing all their attention on the mountains of parchment around the kitchen.

"You know, I don't know which is worse," She began after some time, "The fact that you wanted to drag me to Guam or that you're actually agreeing to leave me here."

"Well make up your mind already, you're either coming or you're staying," Bob replied, not paying an ounce of attention.

Helga's brows furrowed, "What? I've been staying the entire time!"

Before she could wait for another half-attentioned response, the residential kitchen phone began ringing and a sudden silence engulfed the bustling room. Miriam temporarily abandoned her papers, setting the bag down on the counter, grabbing for the cordless receiver and squinting through her square spectacles at the screen.

"It's Olga!" She panicked.

"Don't answer it!" Her husband waved his hands in a 'no-good' fashion. God he watched too many sports. Miriam sat the phone down on the counter and retreated away, as if it would bite her.

"Does she know?" Helga pointed at the phone.

"Of course not! Are you crazy? The phone would be ringing off the hook!" Bob rolled his eyes.

Helga skipped across the kitchen and snapped the receiver off the counter with her parent looking on in sheer horror.

"No, no, no, no—"

She pressed the green button, bringing the phone to her ear, while narrowing her eyes at her them. "Hey sis, I'll call you back. I'm knee deep in some laundering—I mean laundry. Mmkay bye!" She said with fake sweetness and hung up.

"You guys better tell her." Helga threatened with her index finger.

"We were planning to on the plane." Her mother confessed.

"Is that everything?" Bob asked.

Miriam nodded, looking around the kitchen for any stray paper, "Should be."

Suddenly there was the sound of a car horn beeping three times. Helga spun around and peered through the window that overlooked their front lawn to see a taxi van waiting by the curb. "Oh, uh, apparently your chariot is here. Your chariot of escape. Criminals fleeing via taxi…how _original._"

Upon turning around, her parents were nowhere to be found, "Dammit…" Her face fell as she swore.

She hustled out of the kitchen into the living room to find them with arms full of bags and suitcases clamoring out the front door.

She panicked.

"Whoa, whoa wait!" She ran out the front door after them, "How long are you guys going to be gone?"

"Forever!" Her father yelled over his shoulder.

"We love you!" Miriam yelled back, "But you better not squeal!"

Helga stood on the porch, dumb struck for the first time since she'd walked into the kitchen. She watched them cram all of their bags into the taxi van and then climb in themselves. Seconds later the taxi pulled away from their curb and squealed tires down the street.

Oh, was that really necessary? Really? _Really?_ How dramatic.

And then it was quiet. Her dog Zeus came skipping out the front door and sat down on the top porch step. Helga peered down at him and slunk down to sit on the step herself, reaching out and scratching him behind the ears as the gravity of the situation began to firmly take root.

It felt like hours that she sat there, though she truly had no idea how long it had been. Probably minutes for all she knew.

She'd always prayed that Bob and Miriam would disappear but this was _ridonkulous._

Her parents were criminals, who were fleeing the country and had left their 17 year old daughter with the house to herself.

A single brow perked.

Her parents…were fleeing the country…and leaving her…_alone._

That brow crept further up her forehead.

Parents: Gone. Helga: Alone.

That brow became her second hairline.

Umm…_winning!_

She jumped up, "Holy-there is a God! I knew it!" She exclaimed and skipped into the house, "C'mon, in you go Zues," The small dog trotted in before her.

"This is going to be…_amazing_," She said to herself before running upstairs to shower.

About an hour later, she came down, casually dressed and with a huge smile plastered to her face, skipping to the living room stereo and cranking up the music. With it loud enough to hear on the other side of the neighborhood, she air-guitar rocked it into the kitchen to rustle up some grub, which ended up being a blueberry nutra-grain bar.

She could dig it.

Trashing the wrapper, the poked out into the garage, smacking the button to open the doors. Zeus ran out behind her grabbing a tennis ball laying in the corner and throwing it around. There was an old refrigerator in the left corner, full of the Beep—er _The_ _Laundering King's_ weekend brew and the occasional left over whenever Miria—'_the dashing accomplish' _decided to actually cook something. In retrospect, perhaps she wasn't so lazy after all, just preoccupied with the Pataki crime family.

_Sheesh. _

Helga cracked open the fridge door, hoping to score a root beer soda or at the very least a yahoo soda with some rooting.

Beer. Beer. And more beer.

What a surprise.

Oh, but wait, there was a yahoo at the very back, hiding behind beverages that claimed to be the kings a beer, which she shoved aside to grab the aforementioned chocolaty drink.

Right as she popped the top, her phone began buzzing and she sat the can on the fridge to fish the device from her pocket. "Olga…" She sighed before begrudgingly answering it, "Hello."

"_Helga! Oh! My! Gosh!"_ Olga sobbed.

Helga rolled her eyes, "Hey Olga."

"_I-I-I'm so confused right now. Mom and Daddy are…are…I can't even say it! It's too horrible!"_

"Criminals."

Olga shrieked so loudly that Helga had to hold the phone away to prevent possible ear damage, all the while mentally envisioning her sister dressed as Scarlett O'Hara, draped over an antique fainting couch with her arm theatrically covering her eyes.

She inwardly snorted. Over dramatic that one.

"_Did they…say where they were going?"_ Her sister finally blubbered.

"Um…Guam."

"_Are you still home?"_

"Yep, still where they left me. Just…hanging out," Helga had wandered out of the garage and had begun pacing around her parents vehicles.

Olga sniffed_, "Okay, well I'll get you a plane ticket out here then."_

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Helga came to a halt, "You want me to come to Hillwood?"

"_Of course. You can't stay by yourself."_

"I'm 17 years old. I'm sure that I can manage."

"_I don't think so. You're coming out here, until we can figure this thing out, or mom and daddy come to their senses,"_ Olga began sobbing again, prompting an eye roll out of Helga.

"Olga, I can't just _drop_ everything and move. School starts in like…_two weeks!_" She reasoned, but it felt more like a beg.

"_Baby sister, we are victims here, we have to stick together."_

"And we can…in our respective parts of the country."

"_Why do you have to make this difficult?"_

"I'm not trying to."

"_Then you're saying yes to the ticket."_

Helga paused momentarily, before, in pure aggravation, she spun around and kicked Bob's SUV with her foot as hard as she could.

"_What was that?"_

"Nothing!" Helga said through clenched teeth, hopping away, surprised at just how badly that had hurt her foot. "Zues flipped over the trash can," She collapsed to the ground and began nursing her tennis shoe.

"_Oh."_

"Fine, I'll come, but I'm not flying. I'm going to drive."

"_What?! You can't drive! It's almost 2000 miles!"_

"Can I have one thing my way? If I've got to live out there, _again_, then I want to bring all of my stuff."

"_But—"_

"-Olga!"

"_Oh, all right. Will you leave today?"_

"Can I leave tomorrow? I need to rest…I'm just super torn up about everything, you know," Not really, but maybe the fake despair would buy her the rest of the day.

Olga sniffed, _"Oh, me too. I'm…just in so much shock."_

"Mmhmm."

"_I'll call you later tonight, okay?"_

"All right, cool."

"_Bye."_

"Bye," Helga hung up and fell back on the concrete, staring up at the blue, mid-morning sky, briefly thinking about how strange it probably looked, but not _really_ caring. With a groan, she rubbed her eyes with her palms.

She _didn't_ _want_ to go back to Hillwood. Period. She _liked_ her new town, she _liked_ her new school, she _liked_ her new friends, and she _liked_ her new life. What were the odds that her parents would royally screw something good for her?

_Ugh! _Apparently pretty freakin' high if your last name began with a P and ended with –ataki.

Also, why, why, _why_ did she have to have an older sister? Who, coincidentally enough, was the _most responsible_ person on earth, a_nd_ would most certainly be flying out there to drag Helga to Hillwood herself if Helga didn't transport her person there in a timely fashion. That much was for sure.

She sighed in defeat and after lying there a little longer; she pulled her phone to her face, selected a familiar number and held it to her ear.

"Pheebs-yes _I know_ that it's early. Never mind, you're going to shit a brick…"

* * *

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter. I'm sorry if it seemed to move really fast. I kind of wanted to jump right into the story. I didn't want to bore the reader with copious amounts of background information either. Please read and review!


	2. Bowling for Football Heads

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.

**Summary: **After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.

* * *

**Bowling for Football Heads**

It had been a long but a fairly straight forward journey…and maybe in a little weird if you count the band of hippies that she'd run into in the Midwest, but uneventful _otherwise_. 7 days, 13 tanks of gas, 18 different fast food places and 21 phone calls from Ol_ga _later, and Helga found herself rolling into the city limits of Hillwood in Bob's _gigantic_ SUV, stuffed to the brim with everything in the world that she owned.

She didn't gander out of her window with out-of-towners awe, after all, it wasn't as if she _hadn't_ been back there since their move. Every Christmas, she and the _Laundering King and Queen_ drove down those same streets in a rental car from the airport. Past PS118, past their old town house, past the old beeper store, past sunset arms-_ugh!-_past the butcher shop and so forth, on the way to Olga and husband's charming little abode. This time was no different...except it wasn't December...and she had to stay... for more than a week. _  
_

_'Ding Dong'_

She felt weird ringing her own sister's door bell. Especially since it was going to be _her_ new home. On top of that she was a tad bit surprised that Olga hadn't greeted her in the drive-

"Baby sister!" She heard Olga screech as the door flung open. Next thing she knew she was being smothered in a bone crushing hug only able to hear the barking of Zues at their feet.

"Olga!" She managed to squeak through the suffocating fabric of her shirt, "I can't _breath!_"

"Oh, I'm _so_ happy that you're here!" Olga ignored her, but _thankfully_ pulled away, allowing Helga to take in a couple gulps of air.

"Yeah, yeah...me too. Me too," She coughed.

"Well, well, well," Olga's husband Owen (and Helga comedic life line) materialized at the door, "The wicked witch of the east has finally blown in. Oh, and she brought her little dog too."

"Owen-"

"-Bite me," Helga chuckled while giving him a sideways hug.

"Stop trying to come on to me. I'm a married man."

"Pssht, I'm still trying to figure out why _she_ would even want you."

"All right, all right! Enough you two!" Olga broke up their playful banter.

"Right. We should probably get inside," He squinted dramatically passed them as if looking for something, "This place is probably surveilled like a mo'." He began ushering them through the door.

"_Owen!_"

* * *

"So, you can either have the bedroom down stairs, or you can have the one upstairs across the hallway from ours. I would suggest the one upstairs because its bigg-"

"-I'll take the one downstairs," Helga quickly said as she sat the last box ful of her stuff down in the living room.

Olga gave her a weird look, "Oh, okay then."

"She wants to be alone," Owen eyeballed Helga, "To do God knows _what_," He added accusingly but she only spared him an amused eye roll.

"I'm going to sneak in tons of boys and have _loads_ of room parties. You just don't _even_ know."

He got the humor, but it seemed to be a bit lost on her sister, "All right, rules of engagement little sis...ter-in-law. First rule: you've got your own bathroom down here so stay _in it_. I know how you girls liked to congregate in mine during the holidays, but it isn't happening on a regular bases. Second rule: Clean up after yourself, especially in the kitchen. If you don't put your dishes in the dish washer, I will get you and your little dog too…"

"-Oh, I'm shaking in my witch boots."

"…Third rule: We now have night watch in this house and I expect you to sign up for a shift—"

Both Helga and Olga burst out laughing.

"-Oh, laugh now you two, laugh now because we'll see who's laughing later," Owen continued the charade.

"I guess we will," Helga said and picked up a box and headed off to her room. Both Olga and Owen followed her with items.

The room was the same as it was every other time she'd visited with the same queen bed, and the same unimpressionable furniture. It screamed guest room, but that's what it was. A guest room.

"I don't care what you do with it," Olga looked around the four walls, "It's yours. Do what you like."

"Thanks," Helga replied. Honestly she didn't know what she would do with it, besides throwing her comforter onto the bed. That might be about it. It was too much work to paint something she didn't plan to stay in for long. In fact, after graduation, she was out of there.

* * *

That night the three of them sat down for a lovely chicken fettuccini alfredo dish that was to _die_ for. Olga always had quite the culinary talents, and she married a man that, despite his goofy personality, was actually a very well respected chef. Helga would be lucky if she didn't gain 300 pounds living with them, and quite frankly, she wondered how either one of them was as fit as they were eating like this. When she and her parents visited during Christmas, it was some of the best eating she ever did.

She would be surely doomed if it weren't for her teenage metabolism.

"You know Dad had a hidden compartment full of cash in the dining room floor," She told them.

"_Really?_" Owen leaned over the table in immense interest. He had taken the whole, 'Bob and Miriam being criminals and fleeing the country' thing a _whole_ lot better than Olga. Perhaps because he and the beeper king had never really seen eye to eye on things, especially after Bob had called his profession a 'girlish trade' awhile back.

"I just don't understand why Daddy would get involved with such a thing," Olga sighed softly, twirling some pasta onto her fork.

Helga snorted, "Anything to make a buck. Now what I had a hard time believing was that _Mom_ was involved too."

"Hmm…she _was_ very inconspicuous wasn't she?" Owen agreed, "So inconspicuous that it was probably _her_ idea," He and Helga chuckled.

Olga frowned at them both, "I can't believe _either_ of them would be a part of it."

"Well, yeah, but come on. _Mom?_ Dad even called her 'his dashing accomplice.'"

"He said that?" Owen stifled another laugh.

The teen nodded, "He _totally_ said that. I'm not even kidding."

"Did the police come to the house?" Olga cleared her throat, changing the subject slightly.

"I'm not sure," Helga shrugged, "I didn't want to get caught in the middle of it so I went and packed up my stuff immediately and stayed at a friend's house for the rest of the day."

Owen smirked, "They probably tailed you here."

"All right. Enough talking about this," Olga looked more than irritated by the chatter and he immediately caught the hint.

"Sorry," He apologized and they continued the meal in mostly silence.

* * *

**A day later**

Helga skipped to the door to quell the profuse knocking that was assaulting the wooden front door of the house. When she opened it, Phoebe jumped on her, squeezing her in a hug so forceful it surprised Helga that a girl so small was capable of such strength.

"Hey Pheebs!"

"Oh! I'm so glad that you're back! Even if by bizarre and unlikely circumstances," She released her.

"No kidding. Say, you didn't tell anybody did you?"

"Negative."

"Not _even_ Gerald?" Helga eyeballed her suspiciously.

"No, not even Gerald."

"Cool. Let's keep it that way."

Phoebe gave her an unconvinced look, "You know everybody is going to find out when school starts, right?"

"Yes, and that's fine. Until then, I don't want to be bothered."

"Fair enough. So what do you want to go do?"

"I don't know," Helga shrugged, "It's kind of hot out, want to go get some ice cream?"

"Sure! Let's go."

* * *

For it to have been as hot as it was on that August day, the ice cream shop was surprisingly empty. Besides the soccer mom and her three ice cream smeared brats, Helga and Phoebe were the only other people sitting and enjoying cold treats.

"So what's everybody like these days? Is the gang still a breakfast club stereotype?" Helga spooned a small scoop of ice cream into her mouth.

Phoebe looked across the table at her blonde companion and couldn't help but laugh, "You would recognize them all if you saw them," She finally admitted.

"Ah, so I'm right!" Helga laughed.

Phoebe took a few slurps from her strawberry-banana milkshake, or the 'poison-banana' shake as Helga had termed it. "Are you curious about Arnold? It's been awhile."

"_No._"

"Not even a little?" She goaded with a grin.

"I'll find out sooner than later."

"Hmm, yep sooner than later no doubt," Phoebe looked over her friends shoulder and smirked.

"What do you mean?" Helga looked at her strangely before glancing behind her, and dead panning, "Oh shit!" She saw a tall blonde guy and a shorter red headed girl standing at the counter, trying ice cream samples, giggling and laughing and sharing the tiny little spoons with each other.

What bad freakin' luck!

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"I just saw him!" Phoebe swore, "But now that you've seen him, sports have been kind to him have they not?" She winked.

"And apparently, so has Lila. I'm going to the bathroom before he sees me," Helga hurriedly stood up and scurried away.

"Hel—" Phoebe tried but she was gone in a flash.

The girl sat there by herself for at least 5 minutes before being noticed by Arnold and Lila, who walked over immediately. "Hey Phoebe," He beamed.

"Hey Arnold, Lila. What are you two doing?"

"Stopping in for some frozen treats. Gosh it's _oh so_ hot outside, isn't it?" Lila replied while fanning herself with her hand.

Phoebe nodded.

"Is Gerald with you?" Arnold pointed to Helga's abandoned cup of rapidly melting vanilla ice cream. Phoebe couldn't help but perk a brow at the sheer irony of it.

Ice cream, meet 'ice cream.'

"Um, no…that's mine," She hastily said, "I couldn't decide what I wanted."

"Oh. Well I guess I'll see you this Friday huh? Evil twin 3!"

"Of course. Gerald's salivating over it," They all laughed.

"Well, see you later!" Arnold and Lila waved and left the shop.

Only a moment after they left, Helga came bounding out of the bathroom and slung herself back into the booth looking extremely relieved.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I think you've done yet," Phoebe noted, giving her friend the I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that look.

"Well, just forget it ever happened."

Phoebe could only roll her eyes, "Forgetting," She sighed dully, "Just admit it, you still have a thing for him don't you?"

The blonde offered a scoff, "I don't still have a _thing_ for him," She reiterated, "I believe you're _well aware_ of my 8th grade enlightenment."

"Not even a little something?"

"Of course not, Pheebs. I really just don't feel like him _bothering_ me with his…_Arnold kindness_." Helga picked up her spoon and began twirling it around in her ice cream soup.

"His what?"

She dropped the spoon, "If he saw me in here, he would have asked a _million_ questions, then he would have wanted to hang out and invite me places and yada, yada, yada. I'm not interested in it," She finished and crossed her arms firmly across her chest. Done with the whole conversation.

Phoebe couldn't help but laugh a little and Helga's rant, "You are a bitter girl do you know that?" She joked, "But you know, he's sure to find you once school starts next week."

"Don't remind me."

* * *

**First day of school**

The day had arrived. The day. The dreaded day. First day. The first day back to school in Hillwood. Oh how lovely was _that_ going to be. She dreaded the looks she would get from people, the double takes from every person she would pass. Yes, Helga Pataki, come home at last. To top it all off, Phoebe was running late that morning so she wouldn't be there for her to cling to.

_Ugh_-perhaps she should have taken up Olga's offer and eaten the oatmeal that she'd all but shoved in her face that morning at the breakfast table.

She sat in the safety of her massive safari assault vehicle, hiding a little while longer, spying on all the kids walking through the parking lot into the school building. Hiding might not have been the best way to put it; her SUV was _easily_ the _biggest_ one in the parking lot. A lot of good that did for _hiding_. Unfortunately, the clock was ticking ever closer to the beginning of class, and she would have to eventually get out and go in.

_Thanks a lot, Pheebs, _She thought.

When the clock demanded that she leave the safety of her assault vehicle, she took a breath, grabbed her book bag and stepped out of her ride, walking, as inconspicuously as possible up the rows towards the heavy glass doors on the school. Most everybody was too worried about making it to class to worry about her anyway. Or at least she hoped. She didn't feel like dealing with those people this morning. As she neared the building, she dug into her pocket for her schedule, unfolded the worn sheet and began scanning the order of her classes.

Economics first. _Great._ Though she _supposed_ it was _better_ than calculus first. She heard the hum of a car, but paid minimal attention. C lunch? Really? She had C lunch? Crimeny, she really should have eaten that oatmeal. She was going to be dead from starvation by the time she got to eat. As it would turn out, C lunch may have been the least of her troubles that day because not 2 seconds later, she heard a screech and felt something smooth and hard connect harshly with her left leg.

She frantically looked up. A hood, a windshield…shit she was being hit by _a car! _

And despite her best attempts to palm it away, or whatever, the next thing she knew she felt a snap and was flat on the ground, looking at the sky and in the most awful pain of her life.

The car in question slammed to a stop and the driver came fleeing out as Helga lay groaning on the ground, still a bit bewildered at what had happened.

"Oh! Oh my God! Oh my God!" The driver yelled as he raced to her side.

"Dude!" She heard somebody close by yell.

The guy at her side kneeled down, "Oh my God! I am so sorry! Are you hurt?"

"Ahh…you hit me! How did you hit me?!" She growled through the pain.

"I'm so sorry. I was coming around the corner too fast. I wasn't looking—"

"-My leg is killing me!" She howled, "Crimeny it hurts!"

At that, the young man paused and squinted very closely at his victim, "H-Helga?" He asked.

Helga pried her eyes open and stared at him with a furrowed scowl, "Football head!" She barked.

_Of course!_ Who else would bowl her over _but_ Arnold Shortman! Arnold freakin' Shortman. The very last person she wanted to run into that morning...or to be run into by for that matter!

"…Hi," He meekly waved.

"Damn Arnold! Mmm…you managed to not only hit a girl, but you managed to hit one that doesn't even live here! This might be the boldest thing you've done yet!" Gerald, who had been riding with Arnold stepped closer and looked down at their childhood bully.

Arnold turned to his friend, "What?" He asked before shaking his head and turning his attention back to Helga, "What are you doing here?" His eyes were enormous.

"You hit me!"

"No," He shook his head, "I mean when did you move back?" _Really?_ He wanted to talk about this right now? It made Helga want to scream, but instead she reached up and grabbed a fist full of his shirt and dragged him down to her.

"Can we talk about this _later_? My leg is in _excruciating_ pain and so help me _God_ I will strangle you _right now_ if you don't do something!" She threatened in a strained but murderous tone.

"S-sorry, sorry! Ah…do you think it's broken?" He looked dumbfounded.

Helga blinked, released his shirt and lunged for his throat with both hands, "Okay! I'll get the nurse!" He pulled away quickly, but she grabbed him once more and yanked him back.

"The nurse?! Take me to the freakin' hospital…_now_!"

Arnold threw a glance at Gerald who in return shrugged, "Well, you hit her man. Would you have a one night stand without providing some cab fare?"

"_What_?" Helga yelled.

Arnold blinked, "That doesn't even make sense."

"Man, it makes perfect sense. But apparently, you'd be a terrible date."

"What is _wrong_ with you people?!" Helga bellowed.

"Right, right!" Arnold snapped his attention back to her, "Gerald, help me get her into the car."

"Man, she aint big or anything."

"_Gerald!_"

"All right, fine."

Gerald opened up the back door of Arnold's car before helping his friend. When they went to move her, her lower left leg bent in an unnatural way. Helga screamed and Arnold's eyes bugged, "Oh, good God…"

"Yep, that's broken," His friend diagnosed.

Arnold turned white and then a little green in the face, "I think I'm going to be sick…"

"Football head," Helga growled, before attempting to look down at her leg.

"Don't look! It's horrible!" His hand covered her eyes quickly, "Hide the leg Gerald," He demanded.

Gerald gave him a look, "What'd you mean 'hide it'? Where am I supposed to put it? In my pocket?"

"Just shield it with your body."

"Oh just forget it!" Helga shouted, "I'll just _drag_ _myself _to the emergency room!" She tried to bat Arnold away from her.

"How's this?" Gerald interrupted as he took off his basketball jersey and draped it over her legs.

Arnold nodded, "That'll do."

* * *

**At the Hospital**

"Yikes. I'd say that's a break all right!" The doctor took a peek under her pants leg and grimaced. Geez, it had to be bad if the doctor acted like he didn't want to look at it. "How did you say this happened?"

Helga ran her hands over her face with pained frustration, "I was hit…by a car…full of _imbeciles_."

"Now, I resent that…"

She instantly paused when she heard that familiar voice.

"…I was only _riding_ in the car," He finished.

At that she reached to the side of the bed that she was laying in and yanked the privacy curtain away, revealing the two dunderheads that had run her over, sitting together on the edge of another unoccupied hospital bed.

Gerald just looked up at her, "He's your bold imbecile," He thumbed to Arnold. The boy looked terrible, absolutely terrible, but in that moment, she couldn't care less how badly he felt about it.

"What are you two still doing here?!" She demanded angrily.

"Moral support?" Arnold tried.

"_Ugh!_ Look, thanks for dropping me off, _finally_, but if you would just go—Ahh-ouch! _Shit!_"

The doctor was rolling up her jean leg and running his hand over her tibia, "I'm going to set it, okay? It's going to hurt, so brace yourself," He warned.

She had no time to 'brace herself' before he started manipulating her leg, causing her to nearly black out in pain. Gnashing her teeth and gripping the side of the bed as she tried not to scream, but ultimately couldn't keep it in, it hurt so badly. How could something be _so painful?_

Arnold grimaced but leaned over and offered her his hand, "Do you want to hold my hand?" When she gave him a hazily murderous look he instantly withdrew it, more than a little frightened at what she might do if he left it there.

"Almost done," The doctor assured and a few moments later he was, effectively keeping his promise.

Helga was about to crawl out of her skin she was in so much pain, "Holy, mother-flippin-sweet baby Jesus!" It had got no better once he stopped either, "I feel like my leg is in labor."

"Don't worry, we'll give you some nice pain killers when you leave," The doc beamed, "Now, what color cast would you like?"

"…Pink," She groaned and draped an arm over her eyes, "One peep out of you two and I'll beat the tar you of you both," She advised the peanut gallery. Wisely, neither Gerald nor Arnold said a word.

20 agonizing minutes later, with the arrival of Olga sometime in between, and a nurse supplying her with a painkiller, her bright pink cast that ran from the knuckles of her toes up to her knee was dry and finished. And finally, she was starting to feel a little less pain and a little more sleepy and sort of dizzy even. Hey, it beat feeling like somebody was twisting your bones, while stabbing them with knives.

They gave her a pair of crutches, a prescription lots more 'fun pills', loaded her into a wheel chair and sent her own her way. The boys helped Olga load her into her SUV, seeing as she wasn't worth a crap since the painkiller had thoroughly kicked in.

"Olga, I am so sorry about this. Can you _please_ tell her that," Arnold begged as she shut the door.

"I know you are," She gave him a knowing but sad look, "I'll tell her. Don't worry about it; I know that it was an accident."

"Thank you."

With that they parted ways. Olga climbed into the vehicle and glanced into the back seat and her sister, who was about to fall asleep against the window.

"When it rains it pours," She commented aloud, but to no one.

"It's…It's raining men…" Helga slurred deliriously, "Halle-hallelujah…hey…hey."

* * *

**A/N: **Chapter two. How's that for a welcome back? I said it was going to be full of shenanigans and I aim to please. I felt like taking a more over the top, comical approach to his constantly running into her when they were kids. This time he just runs her over. So how is he going to rectify _this_? That is if Helga ever lets him near her again. We'll see! I apologize if some of you didn't understand some of the wicked witch and little dog humor. It's from the 'Wizard of Oz.' Also, how was Owen? Funny? Likable? I sort of tried to make his character like Rainn Wilson, the guy who plays Dwight in 'The Office' and the station clerk in 'Juno.' Anywho, I love knowing your thoughts, so tell me what you think, and thanks for reading.


	3. Legend of the Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold or The Hot Chick.

**Summary:**After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.

* * *

**Legend of the Fall**

"Man, the school is blowing _up_ about you hitting Helga Pataki." Gerald walked up and leaned against the lockers as Arnold pulled a few books from his own. "Though, nobody believes it was_ really_ her. I tried to snap a few pics on my phone when we were loading her in her sister's car, you know, for proof, but they all came out blurry. Kind of like big foot or something…"

His blonde headed friend turned and gave him a 'be-serious' look.

"Wait…why do you look like you've been moping?"

Arnold sighed, "Um, I don't know, maybe because I hit somebody with my car?"

"You hit _Helga Pataki_. That's like a life's worth of karma whirling around and biting her in her skinny ass."

Arnold quickly fixed him with a disapproving look, "That's a terrible thing to say," He scolded.

Gerald only offered his friend a dramatic eye roll in return, "It's harshly true at worst, and you know it," He defended.

"No. No, I've got to make it up to her somehow…" He turned with a shake of his head and closed his locker.

Gerald's eyes became enormous as he was pretty sure he just heard a vinyl record scratch. Proverbially anyway, "Oh, I did _not_ just hear what I think I did."

Arnold shrugged, "I was just thinking I could…you know, help her out. She's going to be in that cast for awhile I think—"

"-Let me stop you right there. You're going to go offering yourself up to _Helga Pataki_ as her...personal assistant?"

"Well…I wouldn't exactly label it an assistant-"

"Yeah, more like personal slave…"

"I'm simply offering a helping hand-"

"Mmhmm."

"Seeing as I sort of caused her the inconvenience."

"Alright, I'm going to have to say it…" Gerald sighed.

"I know, I know, it's a bold thing to do," Arnold beamed proudly.

"_No_. The bold thing to do would have been to watch where you were driving this morning and avoided her ass to begin with. This is just air brained."

The blonde's face fell, "Then what exactly were you going on about this morning? All that stuff about one night stands and cab fare?" He crossed his arms defensively.

"Hey, you had an obligation to get her to the hospital, not give her a phone call the next morning," Gerald said nonchalantly.

"Well, I'm going to do it. I don't care what you say."

Gerald crossed his arms and perked a single brow, "How do you know she'll even go for it?"

"I just think she will." Arnold smiled, "Who wouldn't want the help?"

"Somebody that hates your guts…" Gerald mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look man, I just think it's a bad idea. You have no clue what you could be getting yourself into. And what about Lila? Your know, your _girlfriend_. She's going to flip _out_ when she finds out about this!"

The blonde waved off his friend, "No she won't. She's very understanding."

Gerald snorted, "I hope you're right. For your sake."

* * *

Helga lazily batted her lids awake some hours later, tiredly shrugging off the sleepy grip of the painkiller that she vaguely remembered gulping down. She was laying in her bed, though she had no recollection of getting in it and somebody had made her a nice little pillow wall and propped her leg up on it. Rubbing her eyes, she squinted down at her leg, seeing something written in black sharpie on her cast.

"What the…" She slowly sat up, tilting her head sideways to read: _'They shoot horses for this, you know' _written long ways in big black letters from her knee to her ankle. "Oh, lord…"

She flopped back onto her pillows only to wince when it jiggled her leg. _Note to self: don't do that again. _"Hello?" She called out, "Anybody?... Help! I'm dying!"

That seemed to be the magic word because a sudden faint collection of footsteps could be heard frantically barreling her way, louder and louder until, "Dying?!" Olga came bursting through the door, panic written all over her face, "What do you mean, what's wrong?!" She began inspecting Helga for fever and the like.

"Sorry," Helga batted her hands away, "I had to get your attention somehow. How long have I been asleep?"

Olga frowned at her antics disapprovingly, "For a few hours."

"Oh."

"You must be starving. Do you want me to make you some soup?"

"Sheesh, I've got a broken leg not tonsillitis. I want some real food."

"Just break up another one of those pain killers and mix it with some Progresso. She'll never know the difference," Owen said as he walked into the room.

"Actually," She glared at her brother-in-law before turning back to Olga, "I want a burger, no pickles with ketchup, mustard, mayo, add bacon, no onion with a medium fry, no salt but get lots of those little salt packets and a chocolate milk shake, add a double scoop of malt if they have it."

Olga blinked, "Okay…and from where would you like this burger from?" She asked.

"Eh, I'm not picky. Wherever—did you do this to my cast?" She fixed Owen with a glare.

He smiled brightly, "Of _course_."

"Why, _pray tell_, would you deface my plaster? Especially while I was asleep and defenseless."

He shrugged, "You would have done the same to me."

"Touché."

"Alright, well I guess I'll be getting that burger," Olga announced in a chirp of a voice and headed for the door.

"Want me to come with?" Owen asked.

His wife shook her head, "No, I'll only be a few minutes," She told him and walked from the room.

"Hmm...Not even a week of school, and you're already getting yourself in trouble." He turned back to Helga.

She rolled her eyes, "Hey, I didn't _ask_ for this. Besides, it could be worse."

"Yeah I guess you're right. You could have come home knocked up-"

"Yeah, in one day? _Right_-"

"-Instead you came home knocked _down_."

"Ha…_Ha_…"

"Thank God your boy crush is directionally challenged."

"_Ugh!_ He _isn't_ my boy crush."

"Fine. Man crush. Whatever you want to call it."

"I do _not_ have a crush on him," Helga exacerbated.

"Oh please, it's only because you've been away from the wine for a few years, so to speak. Do I need to remind you that I _was_ around during those obsessive stalker years of yours? Can't nobody just turn off obsession like that, home skillet. Just wait till you get a whiff Arnold's Merlot again. You'll be back to your creepy little Golem like obsession in no time."

Helga draped her arm over her eyes, "Crimeny, I need a painkiller," She groaned woefully.

"Why?"

"So I can be knocked _out_."

"Ah, I love it when jokes come full circle."

"Shut up, Owen."

* * *

**4 days later**

"Here," Olga handed Helga a small baggy containing a single white pill, "If you're absolutely in pain, take it, otherwise, try to make it through the day."

Helga nodded and gobbled the remaining oatmeal in her bowl down in a couple bites. No way was she going to school on an empty stomach again. She saw how that turned out. "Do you think I could break it in half?"

"That would probably be a better idea," Olga agreed, tossing her empty coffee cup in the dish washer, "Call me if you need me," She said, and left for work.

Helga hobbled over to put her bowl away when she heard the door bell ring. She hurriedly crutched into the living room and let Phoebe in.

"Hey Pheebs. I'm almost ready."

"Not a problem," Phoebe smiled and walked in.

Helga crutched back into the living room and grabbed her book bag off of the couch.

"Gosh, you're like the only thing anybody can talk about. You're practically a legend now."

Helga paused and looked at her friend, "I got hit in the parking lot minding my own business. How the heck am I a legend from that?"

Phoebe shrugged, "Its high school. I'm relatively certain that anything or anybody has a decent probability of becoming a legend. Sort of like Rhonda Lloyd is a gossip legend…which ironically enough is part of the reason why _you're _a legend now."

"Is it odd that, that actually made sense to me?"

"No I don't think so."

"Great, let's go."

* * *

Helga's second attempt to walk…er—hobble into school was much more successful than her previous try. Mainly due to the fact that there was no Arnold to run her over or impede her journey in anyway.

Thank God for small miracles. Can I get a amen?

However, one would have thought that Jesus had walked in, based on the way that everybody just blatantly threw proper etiquette out the window and unabashedly gawked as she traveled through the commons and down the hallway to her first block. She and Phoebe had made it inside right as the bell was ringing, so she didn't have to stand around and have awkward conversations with people…yet. And thankfully, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Mr. Shortman…so far.

He wasn't in her first block class either, but Gerald was, and he gave her this incredibly suspicious look like he knew some secret that she didn't as she hobbled past him to the back of the classroom. Throughout the entire period he would occasionally turn around and cop her a glance, as did a few others around. That turned out to be the least of her troubles. The way she was having to angle into that God awful desk to cock her leg out was turning out to be a problem of epic proportions…for her ass. She wasn't sure how it could cause such a pain in her rump. Then again, one look at the hard, industrial grade plastic that the seat was molded with, and there were no doubts as to why. More importantly, she had no idea how she was going to manage 7 more hours of sitting like that.

Unless of course…

She dug into her front pocket and pulled out the pill baggy. Maybe she could test that half-pill theory sooner than later. Unfortunately, as she soon discovered, it was impossible to break it in half with her nail, a pen or the edge of her binder.

"Crimeny…" She muttered under her breath. She knew she should have broken it before she'd left home.

And after an extremely brief debate, a sharp pain shooting through her rear and down her leg, she opted to just down the whole thing.

* * *

**After first block**

As Arnold strode down the hallway to his next class, he caught a glimpse of a particularly slow moving blonde with a pink leg on a pair of silver sticks heading his way. Putting on a smile he skipped through his fellow school mates and hurried to her.

"Hey Helga," He said cheerfully.

She stopped, peering at his feet for a moment before slowly looking up his body to his face, where she stared at him with a blank expression and hazy eyes.

"Are you okay?" He quickly asked.

"Who are you?" She slurred.

"Arnold…" He said slowly.

"Oh…say, is that uh...is that yours?" She pointed to the water bottle saddled in the side drink pocket of his book bag.

Arnold looked at the bottle, and then back at her, "…yeah."

She nodded and very slowly pulled it from the pocket and began drinking it; all the while Arnold just looked around awkwardly, wondering just what the heck was going on.

"I'm just so…thirsty," She mumbled, shaking her head lethargically.

"So listen," He scratched the back of his neck, "I was thinking—"

"-You have a nice…face." She said with a goofy smile, and then poked him in the chin with her index finger, "Yeeeaaahh…"

"Oh, um…thank you?"

"What uh…what did you say your name was again?"

"Arnold…"

"Ah…" She nodded limply and burped, "Cool. Well…take it easy Arnie." She handed him back the empty bottle and slowly moved past him, singing the lyrics to '_It's Raining Men' _to herself.

"It's Arnold…" He pathetically called after her.

* * *

**5 hours later**

"Helga…Helga!"

"Huh?! What?!" She jumped awake and saw Phoebe sitting down in a chair across the table from her.

"Jeez, I've been looking all over for you. How long have you been in here?"

Helga looked around. Judging by the shelves, the books and the old librarian giving her the stink eye, she was in the library. She quickly looked away from the women and back at the raven haired girl in front of her, "I have no idea. I don't even remember coming in here."

"You took that whole pill didn't you?"

She nodded and yawned, "I couldn't break it."

"I figured as much. Gerald told me you had quite an interesting conversation with Arnold this morning."

Helga's brows shot up her forehead, "I did what?"

Phoebe quirked a brow, "You talked to Arnold in the hallway."

"Oh God…what did I say? Did I embarrass myself?" She ran a hand down her face.

Phoebe shrugged, "I was only told that it was an interesting conversation. I figured you would fill me on the details."

"Yeah well, I'm a little lacking on memory at the moment," She sighed, "What time is it?"

"Lunch." Phoebe stood up.

Helga slowly stood up with her, "Great. I'm starving."

The pair made their way out of the library.

* * *

Lunch went by without incident. Getting some food in her stomach alleviated a lot of the remaining painkiller fog that she was still in, but by then, she was just ready for the day to end already.

Despite the fact that she'd slept in the library for…God knows how long, it had still felt like the longest day of her life. One last class remaining. Just one, and it would probably be the longest one of the day.

She was shoving her locker door closed when she heard a familiar voice say, "Helga?"

Turning she saw Arnold cautiously approaching her, "What?" She tossed him an annoyed look.

He smiled when she appeared to be acting normal again. Walking up, he leaned against the lockers coolly. "Have you got a minute?" He asked.

She crossed her arms, "Depends."

"Well, first off, I want to apologize for hitting—"

She silenced him with her hand, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're sorry from the depths of your soul. Save it. I already knew that. Apology accepted." She smiled sardonically, "Now leave me alone." She deadpanned, turned and began crutching away from him.

"Wait!" He called, "I've got a proposition for you!"

She stalled for a moment before turning around and crutching back over to him, "What do you mean 'proposition'?" She peered up at him, "Are you going to run over my other leg. I have to admit, a wheel chair would be much better than these things!"

"Okay, _look_, I know you're having a rough time... because of _me_."

Helga snorted, "That's the understatement of the year."

He looked at her sternly, "So I figured I could make it up to you. I'll help you out for however long you're going to have to wear the cast."

"12 weeks."

"12 weeks?!" He sputtered.

"Yeah, _hairboy_, you didn't just break my leg you _broke_ it."

Arnold shook his head, quickly ridding himself of the imagery, "And I _really_ am sorry…from the depths of my soul, I _really_ am. Which is why I'm offering to help you with _whatever_ you need."

"So, what you're saying is...you're offering to be at my beck and call?" She asked.

He nodded, "Yep."

"Only at school."

"Anytime."

"Anytime?" Helga's eyes widened.

Arnold nodded again, "Yep."

"Like a slave..."

"No, like an... assistant."

"Same thing."

Arnold rolled his eyes, "Can you agree to that?" He said with a sigh.

Helga looked at him for a moment, staring up into his pleading jelly bean green eyes. He really wanted her to let him do this. For reasons, she couldn't even begin to think of at the moment, other than it being the 'Arnold' thing to do.

Begrudgingly, though entirely for show, she finally nodded. She couldn't deny that it would be nice to have someone help her out, and what better person than the one responsible for her condition. "Whatever floats your boat, Football head," She sighed.

Arnold smiled ear to ear. For whatever reason, it was just perplexing to her. He _would_ be the only person in the world excited about being someones pack mule."You aren't going to regret this," He assured.

"Yeeaahhh, I think I might…" She muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Here:" She shoved her book bag in his arms, "Servitude starts now."

Without batting an eye, or a second thought, he happily slung her bag over his shoulder, "Which class do you have next?"

"Government…"

They turned and began walking down the hallway.

"We need to exchange numbers."

Helga chuckled slightly, "Do I get to put you on speed dial?"

"Yep!"

Neither realized it when they walked past the alcove that held the water fountains, but Rhonda Lloyd was leaning against the inside, brow perked, text message that she'd been writing completely forgotten when the conversation that had been taking place just a few feet away had suddenly become _way_ more interesting. As soon as Helga and Arnold passed, Rhonda hurried away in the opposite direction towards the bathroom.

"Oh. My. God," She dramatized the minute she saw Nadine and Sheena primping in the mirror, "You won't _believe_ what I just heard."

"Who hooked up with who?" Nadine asked.

"Better! I just overheard Arnold offering to be Helga Pataki's slave for like…3 months!" She leaned against the counter next to them and began examining her nails, "I really don't know _what_ he was thinking. 3 months? Oh, and poor Lila. I can only imagine what I would do if Thaddeus were to do such a thing. But of course, he would never do that to me," She assured in relief, "And now that I think about it, Helga used to have the biggest crush on Arnold." She looked up to see Nadine and Sheena both giving her a strained look before…

"He did… _what?!_" The bathroom stall banged open revealing a _very_ furious Lila.

* * *

**A/N: ** Oh, Arnold is about to get it! Should be an interesting 12 weeks for Helga and him though. The dialog in the painkiller scene with them was inspired by the movie the Hot Chick. If you've seen that movie, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Her having funny convos on painkillers in general has been inspired by own experiences with painkillers when I broke my leg about 7 years ago. Well, read and review. It is greatly appreciated. Until next time!


	4. Mean Girls

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold or Twilight, Fifty Shades of Grey, Hunger Games or Beautiful Creatures, Wicked, 311, Deerhunter or anything else that seems like it would be profitable.

Summary: After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.

**A/N:** Yay I'm back on this story! Had to wrap up my other one 'Clean' before I could fully concentrate on this one. Bouncing back and forth between drama and comedy was splitting me apart. Anyway, without further ado: Mean Girls

* * *

**Mean Girls**

After Arnold had dutifully escorted Ms. Helga Pataki to her last class of the day, he hustled to his own class where it sat at his desk, studiously penning down notes from the power point that the teacher was lecturing from. It wasn't until good guy Sid poked him in the shoulder that he realized that he'd been the only one unaware of the silent drama, in which he was unknowingly involved, playing out.

"Uh, Arnold…"

The blonde headed boy turned and looked at his friend nodding subtly in the direction of the class room door where the rest of his peer's attentions were gathered. That was when Arnold, for the first time, noticed the fiery red headed girl that looked a lot like his girlfriend, except meaner, glaring ominously through the sliver of rectangular window. The only problem was, it _was_ his girlfriend, and he couldn't ever recall a time that he'd seen her look that furious.

* * *

**10 Minutes Earlier**

"He did… _what?!_" Lila furiously slammed the stall door open.

Rhonda had known immediately, upon seeing the looks on Nadine and Sheena's faces exactly _who_ was in the stall, and being the gossip queen she was, she wasn't about to squander an opportunity to create a little drama, "Oh! Lila! Why dear, I didn't realize you were here!" She cooed sweetly and shoved off of the counter to draw closer to Lila.

The distressed teen lividly crossed her arms and glowered at her classmate, "What exactly did you hear _Rhonda?_"

Rhonda tightly smiled, "Just that, Arnold, apparently feeling _super_ guilty over hitting Helga, agreed to be at her beck in call for 12 _whole_ weeks," she finished and began examining at her nails again.

Lila blanched, "And…and she agreed?"

The raven haired girl shot her an absurd look from beneath her lashes, "Sweetheart, are my shoes Prada?"

Lila already knew the answer to that question. What she didn't know was why Arnold would concoct such an elaborate arrangement and not consult her first. That was when she felt the air deflate right out of her, leaving her drooped and rapidly boiling on the inside, "Why wouldn't he tell me about this?" She gritted her teeth.

Rhonda flipped her hair and placed a hand on Lila's shoulder, "Who can ever know the workings of a boy's mind, _really_. But, if I were you I'd go confront him about it."

The red head looked at Rhonda before taking a breath and nodding with resolve, "You're right. You're oh-so right Rhonda. That's what I'm going to go do." She hoisted her purse onto her shoulder and marched out of the bathroom.

"Girls," Rhonda spun around, looking very pleased with herself, "I have a feeling that I may have just made this an interesting year."

* * *

**Present**

Arnold gulped when he saw Lila point her index finger at him and then at herself and mouth the word 'now' while those infuriated little button eyes bored a hole through him. His own eyes immediately darted away and onto the teacher, his hand shooting into the air like his life depended on it. And maybe it did!

"Yes, Mr. Shortman," The teacher drawled.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

"I suppose."

Arnold was out of his seat and out the door in a flash, surely setting some land speed record in the process. Lila said nothing until the classroom door clicked shut.

"Arnold Philip Shortman!" she hissed, backing him against the wall.

His hands shot up in defense, "What'd I do?!"

"Helga Pataki!"

"I didn't do her! Who said that, Rhonda? You know I ran over her but I _certainly_ didn't—"

Lila slapped him in the chest, "You agreed to be at her disposal for 12 weeks?!"

"Oh…" Arnold's face instantly knitted into that of confusion, "You're…you're mad about _that?_"

Lila's eyebrows shot up her forehead, "Um, yes!"

"Lila, I hit her with my car! I broke her leg. She's hobbling around in a complete mess because of _me_. I can't just walk away from that. I have to make amends and it's the only way I know how."

Lila just shook her head and took a deep grounding breath, "Arnold I don't think it's a good idea."

The boy scowled, "Did you not just hear what I said?"

"I don't think it's such a good idea for _my_ boyfriend to be spending that much time with _another _girl," Lila huffed.

The blonde sighed and fisted his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head, "Lila, its fine." he then reached out and took hold of her shoulders. "Three years later and Helga still barely wants to tolerate me. I mean, I had to practically beg her to let me do this."

"That's even worse…" Lila muttered.

Arnold pulled her into his chest and softly stroked her hair, "There's nothing to worry about."

* * *

"And you aren't the slightest bit worried that having Arnold…waiting on your every need isn't going to reignite some old residual feelings."

Helga stared at Phoebe through slanted eyes as they drove through town, "Are you really asking me this?"

Phoebe half-nodded, "I think it begs asking, yes."

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm lactose intolerant," Helga smugly replied.

Phoebe slowed to a stop light and took the opportunity to glance over with a deadpanned expression, "Did you really just make that joke?"

"Yes I did. And no, you don't need to worry about my feelings so much. If anything you should be worried about Arnold. He's the one that falls in love at the drop of a hat," she pointed out, "Or at least he used to anyway..." she amended quickly when Phoebe gave her a funny look."Whatever, we'll see how the first week goes."

"So, if the arrangement was made today, then why isn't he taking you home?"

"Because I was afraid that if I rode with him I would end up an accomplice to a hit and run," Phoebe snapped her head toward Helga, who sighed, "I'm kidding! Sheesh…I told him to come over later tonight so we could work out the details of his…servitude before we officially kicked off."

"I see."

"Yeah, so anyway…" she trailed off as Phoebe pulled to the curb, "Looks like my stop." Helga opened the door and began heaving herself out of the car.

"Good luck with tonight, Helga."

Once the blonde had managed remove herself completely she turned and ducked her head back in the vehicle, "Thanks, I'll text you later or something."

"10-4."

* * *

Helga hobbled into the house to see Owen standing in the kitchen, munching on a sub sandwich that had all sorts of green, red, and yellow vegetables hanging out of it. "What are you doing home so early?" She crutched passed him and fished a bottled water from the refrigerator.

A brow on his forehead crept upward and he stopped chewing, "I felt like coming home. You look _way _too pleased with yourself," He suspiciously noted, "Whose day did you ruin?"

Helga rolled her eyes at him and took a seat at the kitchen table, "Nobody's. But, I did acquire a slave today."

"You are aware that that's illegal…"

"Not if he _willingly_ volunteered."

"Who would do such a thing?" Owen asked, looking genuinely skeptical of such an occurrence happening.

"Arnold."

"Ohhh…_that_ type of slave," he smirked, and propped against the counter, "This is one of those fifty shades of grey type arrangements, huh? I see. You know I always did peg you as a real freak." he took a bite of sandwich, amusedly watching Helga spit water across the table with a grin.

"Do what?!" she incredulously asked, wiping the dribble from her chin, "How do you even _know _about those books?"

Her brother-in-law shrugged, "I read them."

"What?"

"That's right, I read them. I read Twilight and The Hunger Games too and now I'm reading Beautiful Creatures, and you want to know why? Because I like guilty pleasure chick saga's that's why!"

For the moment, Helga could only stare at him in a way that suggested he'd grown a second head. It was only then that it occurred to Owen that he might have divulged too much information to his crippled sister-in-law, who may have still been looking for revenge for the plaster defacing. He nervously chucked before cautiously clearing his throat, "So, about that…" he tried to coolly play it off.

"Hmm, yeah I'm just going to let you think about what I'm going to do with that little nugget of information you just gave me," Helga replied with an air of evilness coating her voice.

Owen waved her off and continued eating his lunch, but inside he was still fearful of the ramifications, "So, if he isn't a labor slave or a sex slave, what is he?" he bluntly asked, leaving Helga's cheeks to tinge a slight rosy pink from her own mortification.

"He's going to be helping me out for the duration of my cast, crimeny!" she pointed to her leg in aggravation.

"Oh right," he chuckled, "Yes your accident, in which you clearly did _not_ defy gravity, Elphaba"

Helga stood up and tossed her now empty water bottle into the recycle bin, "Listen Bella-anna McKatniss, he's coming over tonight and I'd appreciate if you kept your shenanigans to yourself and didn't embarrass me, okay?"

"Embarrass you?" Owen feigned offense, "I could never imagine such a thing."

"Yes you could…and you do," she narrowed her eyes at him, "Which is why I'm keeping my eye on you," she warned and crutched passed him, and out of the kitchen.

* * *

Four hours passed like no time for Helga, and before she knew it, it was a little after 7:00 p.m. and she'd be expecting Arnold at any minute. She was standing in the kitchen, loading the dish washer with dinner's dirty mess-because apparently, having a broken leg didn't exempt one from _chores_-when she heard the hearty dong of the door bell. In a hobbling flail of limbs, crutches and a pink cast, she scrambled to the front door before Owen could.

_God forbid._

She yanked open the door, seeing Arnold well dressed with that ear-to-ear smile plastered on his face. "Hey," she said, somewhat out of breath from her Olympic 50-yard dash.

"Hey, Helg-ah! Oh geez, what is that!?" Zeus had bolted out of nowhere, like a flash of red and white and began trying to rip Arnold's pants leg to bits. The boy began hoping on one foot, trying to get the feisty little canine to let go, but to no avail. It was all teeth, growls and kakis.

"Zeus!" Helga scolded and yanked her pet up, giving him a pop on the snout, "No!" The dog just looked at her with big, baby eyes, appearing hurt by the punishment, but she knew better, "Sorry," she looked back at Arnold, "He sort of…hates people. You alright?"

"Like his owner!" Owen's voice echoed from the kitchen door. When Helga turned around to give him a well deserved glare, she saw that Olga had already gotten to him with a swat to the back of the head. She mentally made a note to high-five her sister later.

"Oh, well…ah, yeah I'm fine." Arnold straightened his pant leg. "Nice puppy," he patted the Jack Russell on the head. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"We can go to my room." Helga stepped to the side and let him in, closing the door behind him.

"Yeah sure." He nodded. Helga tossed Zeus over onto the couch and told him to stay before leading her guest off down the hallway and into her room.

"So…yeah anyway…" Helga began.

"It's actually a good thing you decided to ride home with Phoebe today. Lila was not a happy camper. Apparently she got some misinformation or something from Rhonda…I don't know, something but—"

"Lila?" Helga cut him off, having completely forgotten that little Miss Country Sunshine was in the picture, she was frozen. Of course, why should she care? She hadn't any quarrels with Lila, especially now that Arnold wasn't of common interest between the two.

Arnold nodded, "My girlfriend."

"Right. I _completely_ forgot about her. Is…is she cool with you doing this?"

Arnold took a seat in a nearby chair and Helga flopped down on her bed to prop her leg up, "That's what I was getting to. She wasn't _happy_ about it, but once I calmed her down she was more understanding of the whole situation."

Helga gave him a pointed look and folded her arms across her chest, "Look, I don't want to cause any more turmoil than I've already caused, all right? Helga Pataki don't do drama."

Arnold chuckled but vehemently shook his head, "There's no trouble, Helga. She's fine now. Honestly I think she was more upset that I didn't tell _her_ first."

"Yeah, that'll do it, Football head." She rolled her eyes at him, "So, details…" She trailed off, eager for a change of subject.

"Well, what do you want them to be?"

Helga wanted to shake him for being so…reasonably accommodating, and then maybe kiss him for being so gentlemanly too. "Just so you know I'm not going to be this…wickedly needy individual. I'm sure you probably _think_ that I'm going to be a total brat—"

"I don't think that."

Helga looked at him for a moment before pressing on, "It'd be great if you could just pick me up for school, take me home and help me get around to class and whatnot. That's where it's a pain with this thing."

Needing no time to ponder her requests, Arnold nodded in agreement, "All right. If that's what you want, that's what I'll do."

"Cool. I mean, I don't _foresee_ myself having any other needs at the moment, but if I do I can always ask."

"When I said anything, I meant anything," Arnold assured. Helga was almost expecting Owen's head to slowly creep around the door frame of her room with a raised eyebrow and something embarrassing to say about her unintentionally suggestive statement, and Arnold's equally suggestive, however dense, response, but he didn't, and for that she was thankful.

But ever vigilant.

Realizing that she'd been quiet for way too long she quickly cleared her throat, "So…wow, yeah that was easy."

"Yeah, pretty easy." he nodded. She noticed that his eyes had wandered over the vast CD collection that she had racked on her desk. "CDs huh? That's pretty old school." He pointed.

"Don't hate."

With a grin, Arnold tilted his head back towards her, "What's your favorite band?"

"Of all time or current?" She sat up.

"Mmm…both."

"My all time favorite band is 311 and my current favorite band is Deerhunter."

Arnold's eyes had widened considerably, excited by something that she'd said, "Mine too! 311 that is. I love those guys."

A smirk drew out on Helga's lips despite the skeptical eyes she gave him, "Oh yeah? What's your favorite album then?" she decided to test him.

The young man rolled his eyes, and snorted, "Psht…that's easy. _'Grassroots'_." He cocked back in the chair, looking like a know-it-all.

"Ah…" Helga drew back and nodded that she was impressed, "You know your 311 Shortman."

"That I do."

"So, you run over girls, and like awesome music, is there anything else I should know about you?" Helga teased. "I don't want any surprises now."

Arnold laughed, "No, I don't run over just _any_ girls, only ones named Helga Pataki…_while_ listening to awesome music."

"Fair enough, hair boy."

A split second of silence crept by before Arnold took a deep breath and stood up, "Well, I've still got some homework to finish up tonight…"

"Yeah me too."

"I guess I'll see you bright and early tomorrow then?" He smiled.

"Can't wait…oh, let me walk you out. I wouldn't want my people-hating-dog destroying your pants." She went to get up. Arnold quickly rushed over and lent her a hand, "Ow…" Helga strained when she felt the blood start rushing back into her leg, "Can't wait for that painkiller tonight either."

"Yeah. Good thing you're going to sleep." Arnold off handily mentioned and Helga felt the color drain from her face, suddenly remembering how embarrassing she'd probably been.

"So yeah, sorry if I…I don't know…said anything weird to you today."

Arnold waved it off, "Oh no, it's…its fine. I figured you that were on some medicine or something."

Helga nervously giggled, crutching ahead of him to hide her blush, "I say a lot of…crazy things on painkillers."

"You sing a lot too."

"Oh." They stopped at the front door.

Arnold half-nodded, "_'It's Raining Men'_ to be specific."

"Huh…well imagine that."

"You also told me I had a nice face and called me Arnie."

With that, Helga dropped her head in her hand and sighed, only to illicit a chuckle from her companion, who placed his hand on her shoulder and patted her soothingly, "I bet you'd be good at karaoke."

"Can-it Football head!" She swatted his hand away.

* * *

**The Following Day**

Luckily for Helga, the ride to school with Arnold hadn't been awkward at all like she thought it would have been, neither one of them having much to say because neither one was really a morning person. It was a tidbit about him that sort of surprised Helga, seeing as he was forever chipper anytime she'd ever seen him, which later made her wonder if he'd been half asleep when he hit her.

The school day passed rather harmlessly with the two of them settling into a really comfortable after class routine that shocked the hell out of the both of them. Helga and Arnold…were getting _along_. For a moment, Helga hoped that it was a sign of a problem free 12 week period for the two.

"I need to make a stop by the bathroom," Helga said to him as she veered off into the opening.

"Sure thing!" He called back and proceeded to lean against the wall with their things.

She saw Sheena, Nadine and Rhonda making their exit as soon as she stepped into the stall. Something seemed off about it but for the moment, her only concern was emptying her bladder. Upon her exit, she realized then, what had been up.

Lila sat on the sink counter, legs crossed, clutching the ledge with her hands and giving Helga a rude look. And Helga had to admit, she was more than a little taken aback by it, "Hey Lila, what's up?" She began crutching to the sink. The disgruntled girl hopped off the counter and stepped in the blonde's path.

"Cut the crap, Helga. I'm going to tell you what's up and I'm only going to say it once."

Helga took a hop backwards, "_Wow_…you are a _whole_ lot meaner than I last remember."

"Arnold may be doing what he thinks is the right thing, but I know _exactly_ what you're up to." Lila pointed an accusing finger at the girl.

Helga's mouth fell open, shocked to pieces by Lila's insinuations. "Me? You're cornering _me_ in the bathroom and I'm the one up to something?" She asked.

"You're using this little…_accident_ to get close to him, I'm not stupid. You may have been away for awhile but you haven't changed a bit."

"Oh no, you discovered my nefariously evil plan. I guess it's foiled. _Darn_." Helga mocked and went to shove past her, but Lila roughly grabbed her arm.

"Like I said, I'm only going to say it once, leave him alone," She stared Helga down and then released her arm, "Have an oh-so-swell day." She popped her chin and strolled out of the bathroom, leaving an ever confused and troubled Helga in her wake.

So maybe things weren't going to be a smooth as she'd hoped.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, so I took some creative license with Lila's character. Sweet and docile on the outside, but a wretched mean girl on the inside. How, oh how is Helga going to handle that? And yes, if it isn't obvious by now, I do indeed have a _slight_ obsession with the musical/book Wicked and the Wizard of OZ...and the jokes just keep rolling out onto paper. lol. Read and Review my pretties! Many thanks to all of you that have and do! Three chapters and thirty reviews. Hawt dayum!


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